


Sparkling Lemonade

by Arsenic



Series: Discipline and Punish [63]
Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prison, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-17
Updated: 2007-12-17
Packaged: 2020-03-29 23:42:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19030333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arsenic/pseuds/Arsenic
Summary: People are weird.





	Sparkling Lemonade

"Um. Is that your dog?"

Mikey turned around at the question to find a somewhat lanky guy behind him, pointing right at where Mizzy was-- "Oh," Mikey said.

"I think our dogs are in love," a second guy said. He was small, Frank's size small, and he looked pretty happy about this, like maybe his mutt had been searching for a long time.

Frank scowled. "If you call attempted molestation _love_."

Really Short Guy blinked. "She doesn't look like she's trying too hard to stop it."

Mikey broke things up before they could get crazy, because Frank could be a little hardcore about protecting what was his, particularly when the possibility of sexual molestation was involved. It was one of Mikey's favorite things about him, but the midget owner of the mutt (beagle something?) seemed odd but not the shade of evil Frank was probably reading into him. "Frank, she's like twice the size of him."

Frank muttered something that Mikey highly suspected was, "Never stopped me."

Jesus. Mikey said, "What _is_ he? A toy beagle?"

"Beagle Jack Russell mix," the lanky one said. "He was the runt."

Frank softened a little at that. Mikey said, "Hi. I'm Mikey. That's Frank. And she's Ms. Goodbar, but we call her Mizzy, Goody or MG, depending on who you're talking to."

"He's Liar," short guy said quite solemnly. "I'm Bert."

Lanky said, "Quinn."

Mizzy and Liar had progressed from pointless attempts at copulation to full out romping. Frank said, "It's so hard to watch them grow up."

Bert snickered and Mikey watched the two of them share a look. Quinn whispered to Mikey, "Beagles have really good noses," and Mikey said, "Yeah," like that made some sort of sense. Whatever, Mikey was saying things other people didn't get all the time.

Bert said, "We can hardly rip them from each other's tender fucking embraces."

Frank agreed: "Hell no," and the two of them whipped out their phones as if by some sort of silent agreement.

Quinn said, "I let him handle the technology."

Mikey asked, "What do you handle?"

Quinn was thoughtful for a moment before he said, "Bert."

Mikey nodded and looked over to where Mizzy had Liar pinned. "Yeah. Okay."

 

*

"You made a couple friend?" Gerard asked. "That's kind of--"

"Gay," Bob said evenly, as if it were neither insult nor compliment, simply fact.

"I was looking for the word domestic," Gerard said. "But gay will do."

Mikey looked up from his textbook. "We have regular Sunday dinners and we've been considering getting a joint bank account. I'm pretty sure this isn't going to be what tips the scales."

"It could be, Mikeyway. It could be," Frank said, arching his eyebrows dramatically. Mikey wasn't going to lie: he thought it was kind of risky to allow Frank and Bert to be in the same space for extended periods of time. Bert struck him as mildly likely to fall off--or possibly jump from--high surfaces at will as the least of his shenanigans and Frank was easily influenced into insanity when he wasn't starting it himself. But Frank had looked so _accomplished_ ever since getting back from the park. Mikey wasn't stopping him from getting together with their new couple friends for anything short of death and mayhem. Even then, it had better be some pretty impressive death and mayhem.

"Guess I'll have to take that chance," Mikey said, and went back to studying.

"For the good of MG," Gerard said, and patted his shoulder, as though to lend him strength.

"Whatever, you and Bob go out on double dates with Vicky and Greta all the time. Don't even talk to me about domestic."

"Vicky and Greta are _girls_ ," Gerard said, like that had some sort of bearing on the conversation.

Bob said, "If you say so."

Frank cackled, and jumped onto Bob's back. Bob took it like a man--one considerably larger than Frank.

 

*

The four of them met at the dog park to give Mizzy and Liar--and Bert and Frank--a chance to frolic. Mikey settled himself pretzel-style atop a picnic table. Quinn stood next to the table and said, "You're kinda quiet."

Mikey didn't deny the charge. When the dogs had managed to exhaust themselves and their humans, they made their way to the Fatone's restaurant, since Phyllis would let the dogs sit with them, so long as they ate outdoors. Bert took a really long time to order, but Quinn seemed quite confident in his Very Exact Favorites. Frank checked in with Mikey and Mikey returned the favor since, no matter what their plans were, they always ended up sharing.

Once they had ordered, Bert started filling them in on his life story which was somewhat convoluted and involved Utah, a place that, heretofore, Mikey had suspected existed only in stories about Mormons. He hadn't been entirely sure Mormons really existed, either, until he met Brendon, who had left his family when he chose to leave the Church. Mikey had, admittedly, not understood completely, even if Brendon seemed pretty ridiculously happy with the church he had now. Bert hadn't so much left as gotten booted head first from what he said. He was dynamic--if tangential and confusing--in his story-telling, which made Mikey wonder about the truth of it all occasionally. There was an underlying thread of sorrow in his eyes, though, when Mikey bothered himself to look and there were certain things that couldn't be faked.

Quinn would interject things that didn't make much sense to Mikey, but Bert would nod at and consider them before going on. When he was done, Mikey was a little worried Bert would expect them to reciprocate, but Frank just asked, "Why Liar?" and that spun Bert off in a totally different direction. Mikey's boyfriend was a totally awesome genius with people.

Mikey watched the way Quinn would absentmindedly lean into Bert, or comb his fingers through Bert's hair. They were small things, things he'd seen Brendon do to Ryan or Brian to Spencer, even Jon to Matt. With those couples though, Mikey had gotten used to it, maybe even started thinking of it as a function of the center or the church, as opposed to the status of couplehood. It was different with these two, or perhaps it was just an outside perspective that Mikey had forgotten could be acquired. He wanted to ask Quinn, just interrupt the monologue of admittedly pretty funny stories--or stories _made_ funny by dint of the way Bert threw himself into telling them--and ask, "How can you do that? Don't you worry? Aren't you afraid that it might end with him hurt?"

He had looked away once as Brendon put an arm around Ryan and Brendon had put a hand to his chin, made him watch. Brendon hadn't said anything, and Mikey suspected Brendon didn't know where the fear came from, just that it was there. He was getting better, he was. He could let Frank tug him into showing affection, or accept affection shown to him by Frank, but initiating it was just beyond his reach. Frank's dick might not have been performing up to their hopes or expectations, but Mikey's brain wasn't either, so it wouldn't have been fair for him to act like Frank was disappointing him in some way. Or at least, it wouldn't have been fair for him to do so and not expect Frank to throw his scorn right back at him. Mikey wasn't sure he could breathe through that.

Instead he smiled at Quinn at one point when Quinn poked at Bert in the middle of one sentence, causing Bert to flail and lose his train of thought. Quinn laughed in response to Mikey's smile. It was almost as good as touching Frank right there in front of the two of them would have been, if not even close to really as good.

 

*

Frank sucked Mikey off slow and with some serious technique that night and when Mikey came back down from the high of sheer sensation it was to notice Frank pulling at himself so hard he was starting to bleed where the skin was raw from repeated tries. Mikey pulled Frank's hand away before gently rubbing some healing cream in and bringing them to bed, letting Frank curl up against Mikey's chest. Frank said, "I want--"

Mikey said, "I know. I know. But things take time." Mikey'd been out four years longer than Frank who had been in two years longer than Mikey overall and he was still clearly carrying a lot of that shit with him. All in all, Mikey didn't think Frank was doing too badly.

"What if it just never-- What if this is the me you're stuck with?"

Mikey thought for a few minutes to find the right answer to that question. When he had, he said, "Then I'll find a way to make you as happy with that as I am. Slightly broken you is still you."

"You could have someone who--"

"I don't _want_ someone. I want you. Even if you never wanted to have sex with me ever again. Even. It'd suck and there'd be times when I'd probably be really sexually frustrated because you have the hottest lips on the planet and your hips were put on this earth to serve as temptation and nothing fucking else, but I'd still be happy. I would. I spent four years not being able to touch you, to fucking _see_ you and I _still_ knew what I wanted. You really going to tell me you think I was wrong? That _this_ makes you think I was wrong? Give me a little credit, okay?"

Frank's breathing was ragged. "I give you credit."

"I just meant--"

"I know. I know. Fair. But I do. Every little bit of it that I have to give, it's yours."

"Then we'll be fine. Seriously. Seriously. What the fuck do you think could happen to us at this point that we wouldn't be able to jointly fuck up the ass?"

"Not funny."

"Not being funny."

"I _won't_ hurt you this time."

"Could be my turn." Mikey hoped not. But he thought he could do it if he had to, for Frank.

"No," Frank said, and it wasn't a statement, it was an order. Mikey didn't think there would ever be a time when he didn't know the difference. Frank repeated himself: "No."

Mikey nodded, his chin brushing over Frank's head. "We'll exhaust our other options, then."

"Yeah," Frank said. "Exhaust."'

 

*

After church the next week, when Frank fell asleep right in the middle of the choir singing, Bob said--diplomatically, all things considered--"Frank seems kinda tired."

Bob and Gerard didn't know about Frank and they weren't going to learn about it from Mikey. They just weren't. "He's been doing that eating thing." Bob would know Mikey meant the one where Frank just didn't eat. He hadn't done it since the new job, but Mikey could generally read Frank's level of stress from his appetite.

"Yeah. He's getting a little--"

"I know," Mikey said. Tommy had been bringing home every sweet Alex knew how to make involving apples and nothing had yet coaxed Frank into gaining back some of the weight he was practically breathing out.

Bob said, "I-- I'm pretty much the last person to talk to people about talking. And Gee and I agree that we've got shit idea of what's going on with the two of you. But maybe-- Your health insurance doesn't cover therapy, does it? Couples?"

Mikey snorted. Bob sighed. "Okay."

"It was a good idea," Mikey said. One Mikey might have to figure out how to make work, actually. Maybe someone from the hospital would take pity on him, help him out with a sliding scale fee, or a pro bono job. He'd have to ask around.

"He's not unfixable," Bob said.

"I know that," Mikey told him, maybe a little bit more vehemently than was called for. Bob just pulled Mikey to him until Mikey relaxed into the grip.

 

*

Bert and Quinn had an actual condo with a down payment and a payment plan that they were half-way through. Bert taught piano out of it while Quinn was at his day job, which Mikey was pretty sure was where the money for the condo came from. Kids, it seemed, loved Bert, which took Mikey aback for a little bit until he realized that Bert was the kind of weird that kids probably mistook for being cool. They had the same affinity for Gerard.

Frank said, "I totally wouldn't trust my kid with you," and Bert said, "Wise, Iero."

Bert let Mikey sit in on a few of the lessons--if there was a technique to Bert's teaching, Mikey really couldn't tell--since part of Mikey's internship included working with music teachers. Afterward they generally shared lemonade mixed with sprite and talked about bands or dogs or whatever the hell was on their mind.

It wasn't completely acontextual, then, when Bert said, "Liar says there's something wrong with Frank."

Mikey couldn't help asking, "You believe him?" Bert had named his dog _Liar_ , for fuck's sake.

Bert said, "Don't be talking smack about my dog, dickwad. Also, yeah, he's smart about people. Smarter than me. People are just fucking weirdos from where I stand."

Mikey thought that was kind of rich, but whatever. "Even Quinn?"

Bert said, "Well, yeah. I mean, weird. Just, I dunno, we've been weird together for so long, even when it wasn't together together. Makes it seem normal. I thought you and Frank had been together for like five and a half years."

"It's complicated," Mikey said.

Bert said, "Okay, well, whatever that shit is, Liar thinks it's fucked up, and trust me, he's smarter than you, so you should think about that."

Mikey could totally accept that Bert McCracken's dog was more intelligent than him. But he already _knew_ there was something wrong with Frank. "Liar say anything about how to fix it?"

"No. He did lick my face a whole bunch, though."

"I'll keep that in mind."

 

*

When Mikey kissed Frank by way of hello that night, Frank breathed heavily against his lips. Mikey swiped his tongue quickly over Frank's cheekbone, just to see what it would do. Frank laughed and said, "Hello to you, too."

Mikey said, "You're weird."

Frank said, "You're the one who licked me."

Mikey said, "Yeah. Weird together."

Frank tucked a hair behind Mikey's ear, and licked his way nice and slow over the ridge.


End file.
